[She splutters the littlest of laughs at his counter and her smugness is only ruined by the wince of pain as her sore muscles are stretched. No good deed goes unpunished...! Ryder rolls her neck and shoulders in an attempt to ease the feeling, but all it does for the time being is leave her with a grimace. Onto happier things, then. She hums as if that's enough to say "Let's go!", dips to pick up her handaxe, one of the packs of matches, and the apron with another soft hiss, then pushes their door open. She tosses the last item back over to him. It's their own little world, fulfilling for her even though she knows underneath her fun that there's no one else here but corpses and animals trying to survive.]
It is too bad... Homecooked meal would be -- heaven.
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It is too bad... Homecooked meal would be -- heaven.